


Taken in Solitude

by sapphireswimming



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: Alternate Scene, Episode: s02e03 Allelujah Dakkan Sakusen | Allelujah Rescue Operation, Friendship, Gen, Gen Work, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Ptolemy (Gundam 00), Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27660473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphireswimming/pseuds/sapphireswimming
Summary: At long last, Allelujah has been rescued. Tieria makes some tea
Relationships: Tieria Erde & Allelujah Haptism
Comments: 17
Kudos: 21





	Taken in Solitude

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13752221/1/
> 
> Set in, with spoilers through, s02e03 _Allelujah Rescue Operation_
> 
> dirtsnakes’s tumblr post “sometimes making tea is less about drinking it and more ab it keeping you company” and birdy-lady’s tumblr post “the intimacy of knowing how to make someone’s perfect cup of coffee or tea” have been haunting me for months
> 
> Title (ironically) from the C.S. Lewis quote “Tea should be taken in solitude” in _Surprised by Joy_

Tieria takes him to the mess hall.

Allelujah thinks Tieria must have told everyone to give them a wide berth, because no one follows them, but he wishes someone else would have come anyway, if only to soften the coming blow. He understands why, but wishes this wasn’t the first thing to happen after his rescue. A shower, at least, would have been nice before Tieria tears him a new one.

Now that it’s just the two of them, the solitude of his prison cell is starting to look not that bad after all. At least the people who came to see him there simply hated everything he stood for. They weren’t disappointed in how badly he’d stood.

The door hisses shut behind them and Allelujah hates how badly it makes him flinch. Tieria doesn’t pay him any attention, however, as he crosses to the far side of the room and pulls out a mug onto the counter with a soft clink before opening the cabinet above him.

Allelujah hangs back. Perhaps if he makes himself small enough, Tieria might see fit to put off the lecture that must have been building for the past four years.

While Tieria’s back is still turned, he carefully undoes the top half of his prison jumpsuit, peeling it off and tying the sleeves in a loose knot around his waist. He can breathe a little more freely without it.

He can almost believe he’s out of that horrible place.

Looking around at the mess hall proves it, though, and he turns on shaking legs to drink in the fact that he’s here on the Ptolemy again. He’s alive and he’s _free_ and that was a prospect he didn’t think possible just a few hours before.

Today has been a little too much happening a little too fast, and before long, he’s sinking down onto the long padded bench built into the back wall. Now that the adrenaline’s finally wearing off, he can feel every aching muscle. If he wasn’t a super soldier, he doesn’t know how he’d still be upright, but he’s weak, and so very tired.

But he’s here.

And so, of course, is Tieria.

Allelujah watches him from across the room through the fringe of his greasy, unevenly chopped hair. Tieria has been quiet except for the sounds of his work – the soft gurgling of water put on to boil, the rummaging through cabinets, and the metallic clinking of a large tin as he sets it against the counter.

He hasn’t said a word since telling Allelujah to follow him as soon as he’d disembarked from Arios. Allelujah has spent every second since then watching Tieria’s back and trying to gauge how mad he is.

He must be furious, that Allelujah was weak enough to be captured during Fallen Angels, that he failed in his every duty as a Gundam Meister. He wonders when the lecture will begin. And how long it will last. And if it will cover anything that he hasn’t berated himself for over and over and over in his empty cell, with nothing else to keep him company but the memories of his every failure, his every weakness.

He wonders if Tieria even agreed to the rescue mission in the first place. If he even wanted to get him back. Well, he probably did, if only so he couldn’t spill any more classified information to the world powers.

Allelujah’s shoulders fall.

He hadn’t – he hadn’t said anything. And while he couldn’t prevent the doctors from taking samples and conducting their experiments, he hadn’t given them any more information than what they discovered themselves, and nothing about Celestial Being. He didn’t tell a single thing about the other Meisters or where their bases were located or any of it, no matter what they threatened and what they did.

Allelujah hadn’t betrayed them.

He’s just unsure how he can possibly hope to convince Tieria.

But he has to try, so he takes a deep breath that rasps in his too-dry throat, and tries to ignore the way his tongue feels like cotton. He’s just taken a deep breath when a spoon clinks heavily against the counter.

Allelujah winces and his mouth locks up.

Tieria turns around from his work to face him. Allelujah tries to brace himself for what’s coming, but when he can’t even meet Tieria’s gaze, he’s knows that whatever meager defence he can muster won’t be nearly enough.

Tieria crosses his arms and stares at him for a long minute. Allelujah’s hands ball into white-knuckled fists in his lap as he tries not to squirm under the attention.

But instead of immediately launching into it, Tieria asks, “Why was the Federation government holding you?”

Allelujah hadn’t even known who was holding him. He’d assumed that the HRL had picked him up after his skirmish with Marie stranded both of their machines, but most of his visitors had been wearing nondescript lab coats, and by the time he was aware enough for interrogations again, he hadn’t been able to identify uniforms as belonging to any Bloc.

His eyes meet Tieria’s for the briefest moment before skittering away again to lock onto one of the many chairs anchored around the table.

He shakes his head a little. “I don’t know.”

Tieria hums.

Disappointed, Allelujah is sure, although he’s not sure if it’s because he isn’t able to fill in any missing pieces, or if he isn’t clever enough to understand even this much about his time locked away. He’s not sure that it matters.

He squeezes his eyes shut. They hurt. So does his throat. And his neck, and his arms, and –

Everything hurts.

He’s shaking and rubbed raw and doesn’t know if he’d rather drink an ocean or sleep for a week straight.

But first, he’ll need to endure Tieria’s berating.

“Hey,” Tieria says, from only a few feet away.

The unexpected proximity startles Allelujah badly enough that he bolts upright, arms instinctively moving into a defensive stance that has Tieria deftly darting out of range.

Allelujah stares after him, eyes wide and heart pounding quickly enough he can feel it in his ears. It only takes a moment to realize what had happened and then his face flushes so dark he can feel the heat on his cheeks.

“Sorry about that,” he mutters, eyes falling to the floor once more.

Tieria doesn’t reply but, after a moment, takes a few deliberately slow steps forward. Allelujah’s gaze tracks the toes of Tieria’s boots as they come to a stop in front of him.

And then at the steaming mug he extends as an offering.

“Here.”

Allelujah looks up in surprise. Tieria patiently waits for him to take it.

“Ah,” he says in a voice that he’s almost convinced to stop shaking. “Thanks.”

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” Tieria says, the corners of his mouth quirking. “You’re still the same.”

Oh.

Tieria still hates him, then.

Just when he was beginning to hope –

He curls forward, around the long-familiar twisting in his stomach. Tieria’s never thought he’s been good enough to be a Gundam Meister but Allelujah can’t imagine what he must think of him now.

He really doesn’t want to know, but he still can’t help but ask, “You… really think so?”

Closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see the expression on Tieria’s face when he confirms what he already knows, Allelujah pulls the mug closer. It’s warm – warm enough to seep into his fingers and through the thin material of his prison-issued shirt.

He relaxes a fraction when soft footsteps mean that Tieria has moved back across the room, but the silence doesn’t last much longer.

“I do,” Tieria says. “But, of course, there’s no reason that you should change. In fact…” he says, and Allelujah looks up to see him take a sip from his own mug, “I must say I’m relieved that you haven’t.”

And Allelujah… Allelujah isn’t sure what to do with that. He isn’t sure if Tieria didn’t want to lose the easiest target for yelling at that he’s ever had or… or if this is something else.

Tieria’s tone of voice, and the fact that he hasn’t started reprimanding him, plus the fact that he made Allelujah a cup of tea doesn’t seem to line up with what Allelujah was expecting, but he doesn’t know what he’s missing.

So he doesn’t say anything for the moment. And neither does Tieria, who takes a long drink. It fogs up his glasses, but Tieria doesn’t seem to mind.

Allelujah blinks a few times, and breathes in the steam that wafts across his face. It’s pleasantly fragrant, and it doesn’t take him long to realize that it’s his favorite Russian brand of loose-leaf black tea that they always used to keep in the back of the cupboards.

He takes a deep breath and hopes this isn’t Tieria feeling the need to give him a buffer of tea before beginning in earnest. Even if it is, he hasn’t had anything but stale water and IV drips in so long that Allelujah is thankful for the comforting familiarity of the tea in his hands.

He blows softly for a few moments and brings the mug to his lips, finally taking a tentative sip. It’s warm and smooth and he’s stunned to realize that it’s been made with a generous spoonful of honey.

It’s been steeped to perfection, as can only be expected from Tieria, but Tieria takes his tea with _sugar cubes_.

Allelujah stares at the mug.

He’s not sure how Tieria knows how he used to make his tea, or why he’d still remember it after all this time, but the fact is that he’s purposefully gone out of his way to prepare a cup of tea the way Allelujah liked it best.

And Allelujah is certain that’s not something Tieria would ever voluntarily choose to do for someone he wishes was dead.

Tears begin to prickle against his eyes and Allelujah quickly bows his head to hide it, dirty matted hair falling down to cover his face. His fingers clutch his tea tighter and tighter, until his hands can’t shake any more.

Tieria notices immediately and looks to him in concern. “What’s wrong? You weren’t injured while you escaped, were you? Arios’s scan came back surprisingly clean, but –”

Allelujah doesn’t think he can form the words to respond. His mouth is quivering too much and his chest hurts, twisted inside in a way the doctors’ poking and prodding could never manage.

But he’s here now, with Celestial Being, and Tieria has _made him tea_ – 

Allelujah shakes his head. “No,” he manages. “It’s the tea.”

“Is it… incorrect?” Tieria asks, brow furrowing. “It has been several years since I’ve seen you make it.”

“No, no it’s –”

It’s _perfect_. But he never expected –

“I thought,” he says before he can stop himself, “you were going to tell me I deserve ten thousand deaths.”

Tieria stops, blinks, then sighs.

Allelujah takes a shaky breath and there’s a scrape of a mug against the counter.

“You don’t deserve ten thousand deaths,” Tieria says, stiltedly, almost as though it pains him to admit it. But his voice is decidedly softer when he continues, “And no one deserves what they must have done to you.”

Allelujah’s head whips up but Tieria isn’t looking at him.

“I’m…” Tieria says after a long minute, “sorry, that it took us so long to find you.”

Allelujah stares.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to look for me,” he finally admits.

Tieria frowns. “Of course we were going to come for you. After all, you’re a Gundam Meister of Celestial Being, aren’t you?”

Suddenly, Allelujah’s eyes are stinging. The mug starts to shake in his hands, so he carefully lowers it to rest against his legs. Only it appears that they’re shaking also.

Hot, heavy tears are pooling in his eyes, blurring his vision. It’s water his body still can’t afford to lose but – but –

“Hey,” Tieria says in alarm. When he speaks next, his voice sounds much closer, and almost on the same level as he is. “Are you alright?”

The question startles a laugh out of Allelujah. And then suddenly he’s crying. Tears are flowing freely down his face now, falling into his mug, dripping down the leg of his jumpsuit.

He reaches up a hand to wipe them away, but as soon as he’s done so, more tears have taken their place.

A hazy shape hovers less than a meter in front of him – Tieria’s hand is outstretched, but he doesn’t seem to know what to do with it.

The image crystallizes the now undeniable truth: Tieria, somehow, does not actually hate him, and didn’t bring him here in order to yell at him where no one else could interrupt. Celestial Being somehow, impossibly, survived everything that the world could throw at them and they never forgot about him. And now he is here, on the Ptolemy, alive and free and so –

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he says, voice cracking. His voice grows a little stronger as he repeats himself. “I’m okay.”

He’s been locked away and interrogated and malnourished and experimented on for four years at the hands of powerful people who hated everything that he was made to be. But he is back where he belongs, with a brand new Gundam that was built for him to pilot, and Tieria doesn’t hate him, after all.

He’s okay. Or, at least, he will be.

Tieria peers at him intently from behind his glasses for a long moment before he finally relaxes, pulling back with a smile.

“Well, then. Welcome back, Allelujah,” he says.

The knot in Allelujah’s stomach looses itself, untying the tension that’s been thrumming throughout his entire body for as long as he can remember.

Keeping a careful grip on his mug of tea, he runs an arm over his eyes, hoping to clear them long enough to meet Tieria’s eyes.

“Thanks,” he says, lips curling up into a watery smile, the first since the world powers tightened around them like a noose in Fallen Angels. “It’s good to be back.”


End file.
